


Spectacularly Stupid

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Content Warning: Ianthe Tridentarius, Gen, Halloween, Implied Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus, POV Gideon Nav, Post-Harrow the Ninth (Locked Tomb Trilogy), Unspecified Setting, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: "Fine, I'll bite," Gideon conceded, despite every good instinct she possessed begging her to do otherwise, "tell me about this old 'Halloween' tradition, oh kindly Necrodad."
Relationships: John Gaius | Necrolord Prime & Gideon Nav
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Spectacularly Stupid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vachtar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vachtar/gifts).



"Fine, I'll bite," Gideon conceded, despite every good instinct she possessed begging her to do otherwise, "tell me about this old 'Halloween' tradition, oh kindly Necrodad." He sighed, but his black eyes glittered with excitement. Or maybe it was just a speck of dust. Whatever the case, Ianthe looked _pissed,_ so Gideon decided it couldn't be a wholly bad decision.

"Well," he began, leaning in as if he were about to share a particularly juicy bit of gossip, "you'd wear these plastic smocks that would restrict your movements-"

"Like a latex straightjacket?" Necrodad frowned, and Gideon wasn't quite sure whether it was the question itself that disappointed him, or the fact that she'd heard of straightjackets and not...whatever the fuck it was he was talking about.

"Ah, I can see how you might have come to that conclusion, but no." He fidgeted with his collar as he waited for the right words to come to him. This ought to be good. "More like...a thin plastic sheet."

"That you wore _._ " Ianthe snorted.

"Yes, and grotesque masks that gave you poor visibility. Couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and you'd walk around and knock on doors." And he'd lost her. Judging by the expression on Ianthe's grotesque mask (or _face_ if you wanted to be, you know, _accurate),_ he'd lost her quite some time ago. Normally she'd have been horrified that she and Ianthe could agree on anything, but the Emperor's bizarre recollection bore precisely _no_ relevance to the sombre All Hallows' Eve that the Ninth House nuns and cultists had observed throughout Gideon's life.

It had been one of several solemn annual congregations, during which they'd once lit candles upon the graves of their dead - but that practice had become far less frequent during Gideon's adolescence, since wax was expensive and the Ninth House was poor as shit. Now they just prayed for the souls of the givers and their friends, whoever _they_ were, and the place had always been chocka with skeleton constructs, courtesy of Harrow. She wondered what they'd do with all the bones, in the absence of their heir and necromancer. They certainly wouldn't be wearing shitty plastic sheets, though Gideon did have a lot of opinions on the black-and-white face paint and whether that might be considered a grotesque mask. (Even if Harrow had still somehow managed to look _kinda_ hot.)

It wouldn't be accurate to say that she didn't care about the Third House's traditions at all, but she didn't care enough to ask _Ianthe._ She'd honestly rather have asked Necrodad about _theorems_ than let Ianthe believe she gave even half a fuck about what she had to say.

"That...sounds stupid," she said lamely, but Necrodad's eyes lit up again. Even with those creepy eyes, he could look kind of goofy.

"It was!" He beamed, showing bright, shark like teeth. " _Spectacularly_ stupid." Actually, when he put it that way, it made total sense that this guy would like something like that. For a moment, Gideon let herself imagine a ridiculous scene, in which she and Harrow knocked on crypt doors as girls, covered from head to toe in ridiculous plastic sheets. Yeah, nothing spectacular about that, it would just have been stupid as hell.

Yet...as he went on to say something about sweets, she couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, a little more stupidity in their lives wouldn't necessarily have been so bad.


End file.
